


Drunk Little Red

by fandomismyship



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drunk Stiles, Fluff, I guess this is pre?, M/M, peter is sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 10:59:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4957807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomismyship/pseuds/fandomismyship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're on Hale territory and... drunk." Peter raised his eyebrows, clearly amused at Stiles current state. "Aren't you a little young to be drinking?"</p><p>"Aren't you a little old to be stalking teenage boys?"</p><p>"I'm pretty sure most stalkers aren't going to care about the age of their victim, Stiles. Don't be stupid."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk Little Red

To say this had been a mistake would be an understatement. Getting drunk alone in the woods at night? Not a good idea. Stiles would not recommended that at all. Except now Stiles was stuck, walking in the dark and trying to figure out just where the fuck he'd walked to. The boy wasn't exactly sure why he had ever thought this was a good idea but he hadn't exactly been thinking when he had driven his Jeep out here in the first place. His dad was stuck in Hospital after a robber decided to turn around and dig a knife into his shoulder before running off. Now Stiles was stuck being worried about his dad and wondering how in hell he was going to pay for the medical bills. Again.

"I would've thought children would have figured out by now that red and the woods are not a good idea together," a voice mussed from behind him, causing Stiles to flail- look, he's drunk, shut up- and drop his Vodka on the floor.

"Jesus _Christ_!" Stiles exclaimed, turning to look at the, now laughing, idiot who had decided to sneak up on him. "I'm not Red Riding Hood and you're an asshole, _Creeperwolf_."

"Aw, did I give you a small surprise?" Peter asked in mock sympathy, stalking forward towards Stiles like his prey. It didn't help that Stiles Jr decided that was a very attractive thing in that moment. "Given we've established that you are Little Red, that must mean I'm the Big Bad Wolf."

Stiles couldn't hold back a roll of his eyes and he stepped back as Peter kept walking towards him. Not now, Stiles thought, willing his stomach to not tighten up and to leave him without having to deal with a boner. "What do you want, Peter?"

"You're on Hale territory and... drunk." Peter raised his eyebrows, clearly amused at Stiles current state. "Aren't you a little young to be drinking?"

"Aren't you a little old to be stalking teenage boys?"

"I'm pretty sure most stalkers aren't going to care about the age of their victim, Stiles. Don't be stupid."

Fucking asshole always had an answer to everything. It was annoying. Peter was annoying. Annoying and hot. No, not hot. Just annoying. "Well, if you don't mind, I need to go home. So I'm just gonna go." The honey eyed boy started to head in the direction he guessed he needed to go before he heard Peter cough behind him and he stopped to turn around and give Peter his best bitch face. "What?"

"You're going in the wrong direction." Peter was clearly holding back a laugh and he pointed to his left, nodding his head. "Your Jeep is that way, but you're also not driving after drinking. Now pick up your bottle and follow me."

Stiles looked in the direction Peter had pointed in and did consider just walking away, flipping the man off and never having to deal with him again. However, Stiles feet ached, his head was sore and he just wanted to sit down. Maybe eat too. Food would be nice. "You can have food when we get you home."

"Huh?" Stiles eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he started to drag his feet up and down, attempting to walk without stumbling or tripping over.

"Nothing, little one." Peter patted Stiles head, earning him a slap on his hand from Stiles, which only caused the creepy wolf to laugh. Stiles couldn't stand him.

"You know, Red Riding Hood wore a cape thing with a hood on it."

"And you're mentioning this because...?" Peter glanced sideways at Stiles and the boy had to look away, the stare making him want to squirm.

"You called me Little Red Riding Hood and, um... I'm only wearing a t-shirt. So, technically I'm not her because I don't have a hood on." That had sounded a lot less... boring in Stiles head. Still, Peter kept his expression light, actually looking interested in what Stiles had to say, even when it was complete rubbish.

"I guess that is true." Peter reached out a hand, running a finger along the end of Stiles sleeve. "Are you cold?"

"Uh..." Oh god, now his mind was going to freeze because Peter was touching him and he was totally going to blame this on the alcohol tomorrow. "I guess so? It is pretty cold."

Peter started to take his black jacket off before he put it over Stiles shoulders, causing the boy to blush. It was actually nice of Peter to do that. Huh. The man had given up his jacket, just because Stiles 'guessed' he was cold. "Can't have you getting too cold. If you died, I'd be blamed for it and that'd be too much fuss."

"Gee, _thanks_ , Peter." Stiles let out a small snort and put the vodka bottle in the pocket of Peter's jumper before he held the jacket closer to him, a small smile grazing his lips. "It's cosy."

"Werewolves run a higher temperature," Peter explained, pressing the back of his hand to Stiles cheek. "See, not cold."

"You're so weird," Stiles mumbled, letting out a small laugh before he shoved Peter's arm away with a playful expression. Sure, he didn't really like Peter much, but the man wasn't hard to get along with. All the killing and offering to bite Stiles stuff just got in the way of Stiles seeing him in a positive light. "Why do you stick around here?"

"Mm?"

"Well, I mean... nobody really wants you here, no offence and you have tried to kill us all. It's kinda awkward. You could go anywhere but you just stay here." It was the one thing that never made sense to Stiles. Why would you stay somewhere with so many bad memories and no hope of it getting better?

"This is home," was the only answer Peter seemed willing to give Stiles and the boy dropped the subject, figuring it was too personal a thing to ask. Maybe Peter wasn't a Psychopath. Sociopath, maybe? Who knew.

When they arrived at his Jeep, Peter stuck his hand in Stiles front jean pocket, making the boy let out a squeak before the wolf held the Jeep keys in front of Stiles' face. "You're disgusting," the boy complained before getting into the passenger seat, knowing there was no point in arguing with Peter. Not only was the man stubborn, he was also a freakin' werewolf and that meant he could force Stiles into the Jeep if he needed to.

The drive home was quiet, silence seeping in between their bodies. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling. Usually silence between two people was just awkward. It was filled with thinking of what to say and secretly wishing the other one wouldn't say anything it. It was something you wanted to end. This was different. Stiles didn't feel awkward, nor did he feel like he had to say a thing. Peter didn't look like he was going to say anything and Stiles kind of liked that. The boy spent so much time talking that he didn't really ever get to experience silence like this. It wasn't too bad.

Then they were arriving at the house and Stiles felt a thick disappointed feeling settle in his stomach as he got out of the Jeep. "Thanks for the lift. You can drive her back- just look after her and I'll pick her up after the Pack meeting."

Peter quirked an eyebrow before he turned the boy around and shoved Stiles towards his front door. "You'll be visiting your dad, Stiles, don't be stupid."

"I can pick it up aft-"

"No." Peter stopped behind Stiles at the front door, watching the boy unlock it with a little bit of a struggle before bright eyes met fading ones. "What?"

"You're not as much of a creep as I thought you were," Stiles mumbled, shrugging his shoulders before he remembered that he still had Peter's jacket off. The boy pulled it off before holding it out, a shy smile on his face.

Peter took the jacket slowly before staring at the boy. Stiles felt like he had done something wrong, like Peter was trying to force a truth out of him that he didn't know he had. "Sleep well." Lips met his cheek and Stiles was sure his cheeks were going to set on fire. Did Peter just kiss his cheek? The boy brushed his fingers over the spot, looking at Peter with wide eyes.

"But I-" Warm lips met his, now chapped, ones and Stiles nearly groaned into the kiss. This was so not how his second kiss was supposed to be. He had planned it all out, obviously using Lydia's face as the fantasy and refusing to acknowledge when she sometimes grew stubble. It wasn't a bad kiss, oh no. Peter was fucking skilled and Stiles felt his knees nearly buckle underneath him. That goddamn tongue. Jesus Chris. When Peter pulled back, Stiles opened his eyes, blinking when he tried to figure out when exactly he had closed them. "Okay."

"Okay?" Peter inquired, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Yip, he was still an asshole.

"Yeah... okay." Stiles nodded his head, feeling like letting out a giddy laugh but refusing to let himself get that embarrassed. "See you tomorrow?"

Peter placed Stiles keys in his hand before pressing a light kiss to his other cheek. "See you tomorrow, Little Red."

Stiles was so completely screwed. Damn Stiles Jr for always being right in these matters. Stupid, and now _very_ hard, penis.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I blame my friend for this.  
> She's on a Peter/Stiles binge and I needed to write some.  
> I also couldn't think of a good idea.  
> Feel free to request stuff below, leave Kudos and feedback!  
> Thank you for reading, lovelies.


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